Effie's Last Letters
by BarnumOnTheBrain
Summary: Effie writes three letters to Haymitch after the war. She is still in the Capitol, pieicing back together her life, and he, she assumes, is carrying on back home in Twelve. Hayffie oneshot.


**Sorry for the sadder tone my more recent fics have taken. But I'm not going to lie and say this is a happy story now. Slight AU. Hayffie. **

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Dear Haymitch,

I didn't know how to reach you from the Capitol. I know you tore out your phone again, but hopefully this letter will reach you at some point.  
Firstly, thank you. I know I never got to really say thank you for saving me, but when I saw you in the medical centre after they got me out I was just so shocked to see you. I didn't know if you were dead or alive, and then suddenly you were there, looking as if you were at Death's door, but there nonetheless. And I'm sorry I kissed you in front of all those people. After you left, one of the medics said to another "well that explains why he fought Coin so hard to keep her alive." They had both given me pitying looks, and I passed out fairly soon after that. During and after Katniss' trial I hardly knew what was going on – I hardly remember anything of those weeks. My head is all jumbled at the moment and I have to have my sister live with me, because I forget things like where the milk is kept. She says I wake up asking for you a lot. I don't remember if I do, but I don't see why she would lie about that.

My mind isn't working like it used to, things get jumbled and I don't know what I want just right now, I'm guessing you're the same. But I just hope you're okay for now. If I get any better any time soon I would like to come to District Twelve, if that's alright with you? It would be nice to see Katniss and Peeta. And you, of course.

Yours,  
Effie

Dear Haymitch,

You didn't reply to my last letter, but I didn't expect you to. I'm not really writing to you to get a response, I just want you to know that I'm still thinking about you. My doctor told me it would probably be a good idea to see you soon, just so I can figure out what's going on in my own head, and then maybe sort out how my life will change once I do. It's one thing knowing something and another applying it, right? That's what you told a pair of tributes one year after they told you how their father told them how to use a pick-axe before their Reaping. It was a brother and sister pair that year. I remember asking you what the odds of that would be and you just snorted, telling me it was very unlikely indeed – almost as if it had been planned.  
I don't know why I remember these things, memories of years ago, but I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning, it's quite bizarre! The doctor says that I have remembered and stored only the most important memories from my past, leaving what was my painful present out of my mind. I remember things like you staying sober enough for Peeta and Katniss to arrange sponsors during their first Games. I remember when I was five and I got to hold my newborn sister in the hospital, propped up against my mother's pillows in bed. That one party that Chaff attended and you and him actually had a wonderful time, and you danced with me with such a smile on your face, because being with him, your dearest friend in the entire world, made you happy. That was the night you kissed me for the first time. Your tie was purple. My first day of high school. The day you got incredibly drunk – more so than usual – during the 70th Games and you insisted I married you and lived in Twelve with you, because, and I quote, "the house could do with a sprucing up and you're pretty anal about cleaning." It was hardly the most romantic of proposals, but the fact that you asked me again when you were sober that evening perhaps made me feel a little better.

I've been given permission to visit Twelve by my doctor, so I'll be coming out in the next few weeks. Peeta says I can stay in his house, as he is in Katniss' house so much he practically lives there. When I phoned them to ask if it was alright for me to come they sounded very peculiar. When I asked after you, Katniss couldn't really answer and so she passed the phone to Peeta, who was very vague. I'm worried about you now, and hope you haven't done anything silly.

With my love,  
Effie

Dearest Haymitch,

I didn't see you today in Twelve. And I don't think I'll be seeing you tomorrow. Well, I did see you, but it was only from afar, and I would have felt silly calling out to you in the Meadow.  
Peeta and Katniss have been wonderful with me, taking care of me and making sure that I have everything I need. To be honest, all I need is them. They are polite, considerate and tidy – all the things you aren't, my darling – but they do watch me with unease. I don't blame them though. My reflection returns a wary gaze when I look in the mirror.

You see, I don't know how long it will be until everything around me falls apart. At the moment all I feel is numbness. There is nothing inside of me yet. Well, there is, but it's shrouded by a fog, and I don't know how long it will be until that fog clears.

Katniss and Peeta weren't really sure of how to break the news to me about you, so instead they showed me. When they led me out of the house I felt unease at the prospect of seeing you again, but an excited unease. I was uncomfortable, but only out of anticipation. So when they led me out of the Village, I was confused. When we reached the Meadow, I was consumed with dread. I knew what the Meadow was now – a mass grave.

I asked Peeta what happened and he said quietly, so the wandering Katniss wouldn't hear, that he found you one morning lying in bed, as still as anything. It turns out it was an accident. That's when I thought I was going to collapse. My mind wanted to shut down, but my body just kept on going. I found myself on my knees in front of your headstone, running my fingers over the cold stone engraving of your name.

That was this morning. Now I'm in your house, sitting on the sofa where you made love with me the first time all those years ago. I can still smell you in here – underneath the remaining stench of alcohol there is the musky smell of your skin.

Anyway, I think I've written enough for now. Once the pain comes, and it will come, I might write again – if I can.

For now, I don't know what to do.

With all my love,  
Your Effie

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**To all of you who regularly read my fics, thank you so much! And to those of you who just read a few, or for whom this is the first of my fics you have read, thank you also! Please feel free to leave me a short comment, it would be much appreciated!**


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